What If I?
by AgentSmith321
Summary: A look into authoritarianism vs anarchy, collectivism vs individualism, depicted with Warrior Cats.
1. Prologue

**Hi, this is AgentSmith321. This is my first fan fiction, so bear with me. I'm also incredibly theme-oriented, and some find that annoying. **

**Symbolism & Theme Analysis in Prologue (Read after Story): **Color of cat is gray. Gray symbolizes stability and authority. Lack of change in nature perceived by the gray cat relates to societal issues of conservatism, authority, determinism, and tradition. Cyclical patterns (like seasons) described in first paragraph, relates to the need of societal change, which the self-proclaimed all-knowing cat is against. Food chain example, relates to the hierarchical authoritarianism of the Warriors Cat's society, and human society. "Interprets will of ancestors", relates to the role of religion in society. "Tyranny of certain individuals and collectives", this shows that this cat is obviously against any change, or revolutionary force from arising.

To the west, the sunset elongated across the horizon, the silhouette of rolling hills and trees blotting out portions of the orange mass. A conglomeration of almost phantasmagoric color patterns served as the backdrop for the sun. Orange, red, purple, all conjoining. To the east, mist shrouded the tops of forested mountains in the distance; crystalline lakes were present at the bottoms of these monolithic mountains, the brilliant, colorful, reflection of the sun rebounded off the glass surface of the pools of truth. This nomadic feline observed the cyclical patterns of nature in action with a pathological obsession. The consistency, the lack of change, the determinism, the repetitiveness. The sun rose and fell, flowers bloom after the snow melts, then the leaves fall to the ground yet again, and the cycle repeats itself. The cat eats the mouse, the mouse eats the insects, the insects eat other smaller insects, and the hierarchy continued. It was the way nature worked. Change was to be found nowhere. The pattern itself stayed. It was tradition.

The conservation of tradition was what this gray feline had devoted his entire life to. The will of the ancestors, the promotion of conformity, maintaining stability was what he perpetuated. To protect populations of cats against the tyranny of certain individuals and majorities was his sole purpose. He interpreted the will of ancestors, and acted accordingly. He stabilized. He preserved. He conserved the tradition. This cat was fulfilled, and felt accomplished. He had saved an innumerable number of collectives from complete and utter moral extirpation. The tom was well aware that a small minority of nihilistic cats always resisted the stability and safety of him. The tom never understood the logic of that. Too many times, the stable society had been brought to its knees by radical individuals and minorities, and majorities, too, as a matter of fact. Their excuses for dictatorship and chaos were often equality, individualism, anarchy, liberty, and many other serpentine concepts that had proven to be detrimental to the cats. And yet, these iconoclastic insurrectionaries never let go of their flawed images of society.

The lithe gray cat padded along the worn trail, carrying him down the path. The path of the majority. He swiveled his head back and forth, observing the landscape with his icy blue eyes. One paradox, one conundrum, still, existed like a splinter in his consciousness. The one thing that made him doubt the pre-determination that he was so sure of.

_I chose to do this. I chose to prevent change. __**I chose**__. _Agitated and hungry, the cat grew incensed at his own skepticism about his own beliefs. _I __**can**__ wander off this trail, just veer off, just let go, just free the mind….. BUT NO! _The cat kneaded the soil with his paws, in frustration. The cat had grown frustrated with his own excessive cogitation. That contemplation was worth nothing. He reminded himself that he mustn't allow himself to be adulterated by these trivial hypothetical conundrums.

The gray tom's growling stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten since sunrise. He stopped and easily pounced and dispatched a small vole burrowing in the bank of a stream, and greedily devoured it, then carried on. The cat prayed that he would encounter a community of cats soon. The tom sighed, and, looking north, discerned the outline of human nests. _Cats are near._ The lone traveler had overheard some lawless, violent cats from a human nest not too far south of him discuss cats that lived in the forest by a lake, up north. They spoke of invasion and war. He padded on, into the distance, as the sun sank behind the horizon, which appeared warped, due to the lack of objects impeding the view of realms far away. He padded softly along, tail drooping, towards the northern mountains, where the forest cats where, and where the zeitgeist shall be distorted, yet again.


	2. Chapter 1

Rays of white sunlight shone through the apertures in Thunder Clan nursery, shining upon Crowkit's jet black pelt. His icy blue eyes gradually came open. Crowkit observed his 2 siblings, Cougarkit and Pinekit, scuffled with each other at the opposite end of the nursery. Crowkit silently scoffed at their stupidity. _Why waste energy on such a useless thing to do?_ Crowpaw inquired. They often replied to him by saying- "Don't you want to help Thunder Clan by becoming a warrior, Crowkit?" Crowkit shrugged at the question. Many of his littermates, and fellow kits spoke of training to become warriors, and fighting for the sake of the clan.

The idea of putting his life on the line for a clan seemed alien to Crowkit. Cougarkit, large and muscular, pounced directly on top of Pinekit, and pinned him to the ground. "Give up now, River Clan deputy?" Cougarkit scowled, and pressed down on Pinekit's throat even harder. Pinekit relaxed his shoulders, making himself look beat. Cougarkit was about to start gloating, until Pinekit leapt of his back, and the two stumbled out of the nursery entrance, yelping and squealing, as Streampelt, the nurturer, the mother, observed.

Cougarkit, the strong, the muscular, the masculine, the purpose was obvious. The meaning, obvious. Pinekit, the intelligent, clever, witty, lithe, quick. The purpose was obvious. To be born a way. To be exploited. To be expected of by the Clan, to be an inevitability, to have no choice. These thought were thick in the Crow's head.

"Wake, Crowkit, it is time to get up," Streampelt mewed from across the nursery. "Your apprentice ceremony is coming soon, you must get used to getting up early."

Crowkit, with much effort, got up onto his paws, and languorously stretched his back, and continued to stretch each limb of his body. One of Crowkit's favorite past times was to deliberately wake up in a languid manner, and shoving it in other cat's faces. It was quite interesting to play psychological tricks on other cats. It was like playing games, like playing chess with another entity, except you have hijacked your opponent, and can control its actions. It was annoying to others, but entertaining to Crowkit.

"Why don't you go eat, then play with the other kits. They're in the clearing, playing, like normal kits." Streampelt murmured, in between breaths, while grooming her gloriously lustrous coat.

"Yea, uh huh, I'll do just that," Crowkit responded in an indifferent tone, and padded out of the nursery, quite indolently. He scampered over to the fresh-kill pile, after Redpelt, the novice warrior, chose the last thrush from the pile. _Ugh! I wanted that thrush you!_ Crowkit thought angrily, glaring at Redpelt's crimson pelt as he strolled over to 2 female warriors. Crowkit preferred birds over burrowing animals. He grudgingly opted for a plump mouse, carried it to a shady corner of the camp, and began to eat. The mouse was stringy and tasteless. Crowkit stared at the less than desirable piece of meat, and then, after scanning the clearing for presumptuous warriors that would chastise him, batted it out of the camp, half-eaten. _Worthless. _He wasn't hungry, anyways.

Crowkit strolled over to the other kits, who were batting a piece of moist moss around the clearing. "Hey, Pinekit, catch this," Snowkit, a petite she-cat, mewed, before tossing the ball of moss into the air with her elongated tail. Pinekit attempted to catch the ball of moss, but Crowkit batted at his forelegs, and Pinekit toppled over, and Crowkit caught the ball of moss before it hit the ground. Pinekit scrambled off the dusty ground, and squealed at Crowkit. "Hey! What was that for? We're trying to play an honest game of catch here! Go away!"

Crowkit smirked. "I have your ball of moss, and the elders have the rest. Whatcha gonna do if I have your moss?" Crowpaw mocked.

"Hey, Crowkit, give it back. That's our moss!" Snowkit yelped, demanding attention. Crowkit took a step backwards, still with a mocking smirk on his face.

Cougarkit leaped up from sitting position, and tried to leap of Crowkit, with all of his muscle and force behind him. He was too slow. Crowkit easily side-stepped out of the way, effortless, and Cougarkit landed with a thump on the ground. "Ha! Though you may have superior strength, I have superior speed and wit!" Crowkit arrogantly proclaimed, as Cougarkit attempted to rid his mouth of dirt.

Otterkit, a well-rounded, lithe brown kit, stepped right up in Crowkit's face. "Go away. No one wants to hear you make fun of others."

Snowkit and Pinekit joined in, showing their support of Otterkit, telling Crowkit off.

"All you ever do is mock others, Crowkit. Just go." Snowkit demanded. _Ha! I'll show you mean and emotionless. _Crowkit snatched up the ball of moss, barely avoiding Pinekit's paw, and scampered away with it, then shoved it into an abandoned snake hole in the ground, never to be seen again, then ran off to the other side of the clearing, laughing heartily, as the other kits glared at him and growled. Crowkit adored the art and science of annoying. It entertained him when Snakekit wasn't present, he had been Crowkit's best friend ever since they both banded together, and decided to go on an escapade in the woods, without permission, which was against the Warrior Code, obviously, but neither one of them really cared, since they both had the intellectual means to get away with just about anything. It was what they did. They were essentially criminals, friends, yet separate, most of the time. They rarely spoke, yet they knew that they both shared a common hatred for authority, and were constantly taking more food from the fresh-kill pile than allowed, adventuring into the woods, sometimes even to the border of Thunder Clan, mocking warriors behind their backs, and verbally abusing other kits.

The most profane thing they had ever done was place a maggot-infested thrush in Skystar, the leaders, den. They were never exposed, but Skystar was infuriated, and Crowkit chuckled every time he thought about the moment. Crowkit knew, that, even if Crowkit and Snakekit hated each other, they would still be bonded through their propensity to disobey, and fracture the rules, that no cat really truly thought about the implications of.

There was one huge difference between Crowkit and Snakekit, though. Crowkit wanted change, Crowkit wanted to change things for himself, and others, and was willing to act to do it. Every time the Warrior Code was mentioned around Crowkit, Crowkit felt like he was being torn to pieces by a ridiculous social construct that had no real desirable effect on Crowkit. Snakekit didn't seem to have any cogitation going on, he seemed to just be in on the act for the sake of being loathed by others, and for entertainment. Sure, that was part of it for Crowkit, but another part was a more introspective, meaningful part.

Snakekit was ill, though. He was suffering from whitecough. He was the small, miniscule, scrawny, weak kit. Crowkit was smaller than all of his siblings, but still incredibly quick, lithe, and relatively muscular.

Crowkit did what he usually did for the rest of the day: lie around, nap, observe, cogitate, all that. All of the other kits were centered around Thornpaw, the narcissistic, egocentric apprentice. He was showing Snowkit, Pinekit, Otterkit, Cougarkit, and Petalkit fighting moves, and, demonstrated them rather poorly. _What a joke. A waste of time and energy._

Crowkit carried on with his apathetic attitude, but still, the apprentice ceremony was a nagging thought in the back of his head that was jam-packed full of other pursuits that didn't involve Clan duties. As the sun fell from the sky, Crowkit tiptoed into the nursery, and fell asleep immediately, using his mind to just, wash away his worries, because he had them means to do it, and could, and chose to. _No need to worry about them, Crowkit, they're too stupid and inane to chose. I will choose. _

**Analysis: Hope you like it. If you haven't realized it yet, I'm trying to be kinda avant-garde with this, and it's my first voluntary piece of writing, so, bare with me. I know many of you don't like introspective, theme-oriented works, so, just, don't read it if you don't like that. **


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Lying against the bramble walls of the nursery, Crowkit often enjoyed simply observing clan life go on, continue, distending. Cougarkit and the bunch wrestled playfully, yet intently, right outside the nursery. The elite strolled over to the fresh kill pile and helped themselves to mice, thrush, crow, voles, and the like, the elders gossiped in the clearing near the edge of the camp, dappled with sunlight. Crowkit considered visiting the fresh kill pile, lounging outside, visiting Snakekit, but decided not to. _More of the same._

Crowkit often posited what a different life might be like. It was certainly a normative thought. Crowkit despised the Thunder Clan paradigm. Crowkit never regretted his existence in Thunder Clan, though. A purpose, a drive, seemed to arise every time Crowkit observed the mediocrity of clan life, the inevitability. Crowkit wondered _why_ the cats obeyed, _why_ they shared, and _why_ they abstained from expressing themselves individually. These questions drove Crowkit mad, essentially, but it was a calm, meditative irate. All Crowkit knew was that he felt that he somehow transcended the rest of Thunder Clan, in such a way that he could perceive the underlying issue at hand. But still, the question of _why_ still sent Crowkit spiraling into a discombobulation of aberration some nights. _What_ is the mechanism that keeps the machines, the statistics, which are clan cats, running?

Crowkit felt as though he perceived it. But it wasn't something that could be labeled through sensory perception, it was, intangible. A feeling. An idea.

Crowkit hadn't eaten in three days. When he starved himself, he felt that he could transcend reality. Crowkit began to feel his neglect's affect, in the form of his stomach rumbling violently.

Another idea, another feeling, drove the conformity that was imposed upon the cats. This idea enforced equality. It was foreign to Crowkit.

Eventually, Crowkit gave in to his needs, though, and skulked over to the fresh kill pile, padding carefully, so he wouldn't awake his mother. He chose two thrushes from the pile, scampered over to an obscure, dark, and damp corner of the camp, and devoured the two thrushes.

Then, Crowkit spotted Snakekit padding out of the medicine den. He seemed to be doing far better, as he was heading towards the fresh kill pile to eat. Crowkit padded towards Snakekit. "Hi, Snakekit," Crowkit mewed. Snakekit acknowledged Crowkit's presence by nodding, while chewing his mouse. Snakekit flicked his tail towards the obscure corner of the camp, signaling Crowkit to come with him. They both sat down beside one another, and Snakekit finished his mouse.

"Ugh… I've been so bored, being stuck up in that despicably bitter-smelling medicine den, getting killed slowly," Snakekit murmured meekly. "We've got to get out of here tonight, somehow. We've got to go somewhere, just out of here. Because I'm sick, sick of this place," Snakekit complained in an agitated, matter-of-fact tone.

Crowkit, neurotic, as usual, scanned the vicinity before speaking. "Ugh! If we're going to do this we need to be extra careful. We've just gotten ourselves into another meaningless conflict with Shadow Clan. There will be extra patrols out. I don't know if we should do it, at least not any time soon."

Snakekit rolled his deep, sea green eyes. "Dammit! No! We need to do this tonight!"

"Well, fine. You go alone tonight, but I'm not risking getting caught and lectured by Skystar and his henchman." Crowkit indifferently explained.

"No, Crowkit! I am not, I repeat NOT, taking 100% of the heat for this again! You're coming. Whether you want to or not. If I get caught one more time, I'll be screwed." Snakekit pleaded desperately.

"Well, fine, screw yourself, but I'm not going to get screwed by Skystar and Stoneclaw," Crowkit retorted calmly. Snakekit just sat there, obviously infuriated. Then sighed, and began to pad away. _God damn manipulator! _

"Fine, I'll go with you tonight," Crowkit mewed almost inaudibly. Snakekit nodded, and padded back to the nursery.


End file.
